From the Mist
by PrincessAlica
Summary: Rhett in confronted over his mistakes after leaving Scarlett.
1. Chapter 1

_No one die of shock. Yes, this is a new story. No, I haven't disappeared from GWTW, I've just been very busy. The very basic idea of this story came to me years ago, and a brief sentence description has been sitting in my idea folder for at least 5 years, and yet just in the last week, this story suddenly came to life. So there is potential that the other stories might someday see the light of day. Although I'm not sure that anyone is ready for some of them… Thank you dearly to dear Sara for reading this and giving input. It is always a highlight of my day to have someone as wonderful as you be my sounding board! I'm so thankful for you, as should anyone who reads this story and many of my other writings._

The death of Melanie Wilkes was the final straw in his sham of a marriage. Scarlett had rushed home from her death bed with confessions of love and news of the passing of the only respectable woman in town that would champion either of the disgraced Butlers. Melanie had seen fit to let it slip about Rhett's secret love. She had poured out her heart, suddenly realizing that she had loved him for a long time. But it didn't matter, he was broken inside. And he didn't love her any more. And just to prove that realization, he had left her the very next day. He stepped out into the heavy fog of the early morning of the late September hush and had disappeared, finding it difficult to imagine that he would ever return, despite his promises to the contrary. After all, he was no gentleman, so there was nothing binding him to these vows. And he imagined with a wry smile that the ties that bound him to his wife and her children and this desolate town were loosening and weakening with each mile that he placed between them. Belle was wrong, Scarlett was not in his blood. He could escape from her poison. And yet he could not shake the feeling that something had followed him, as a shadow trailing behind him, yet ever present.

After fleeing from this feeling for weeks now, he tried to shrug it off as merely an over active imagine, liberally augmented with the help of whiskey. He now sat quietly stubbing his cigar, as he stared out at the misty water, the haze shrouding the shoreline as though an errant child had spilled water on the canvas of a watercolor painting blurring any distinction from where the waters began and the land ended. He could hear the faint clanging of a bell or chains out on the water. The entire scene was a little eerie, which was fitting when considering the locals superstitions about All Hallow's Eves. The Irish were strong believer's in the belief that this was the night when the ghosts and goblins were once again free to roam the earth. He shuddered as a cool finger of wind swept across his neck, the small hair standing up as he was overcome with the feeling that someone or something was watching him.

He glanced over his shoulder, and yet there was no one there, at least no one that he could see, he nearly chuckled at the thought that he had been swept away for a moment with the nonsensical superstitions of these Irish peasants, which there was a singular person from Irish peasant stock that he could not seem to escape from.

He closed his eyes, attempting to block out the headache that was building behind his eyes. Before long, he would be blindsided by knee bending pain. He heard faint whispers, as though conversations were going on around him, although there was no one there. Yet the whispers did not cease, but continued to build. The faint wailing of an infant and the paper thin voices that seemed oddly familiar echoed, as he felt himself slipping into a daze. For a moment he could have sworn that he could hear Wade's voice, full of accusation, but it was not Wade's voice, there was something different, but it sounded much like his step-son. Charles Hamilton? He could barely even remember what Scarlett's first husband looked like, yet he couldn't help but imagine that the similarities to Wade, as he looked nothing like his mother.

"Rhett" the wind seemed to whisper his name. The clanging grew louder, as the wind began tossing his hair, twisting and churning. "Rhett Butler." He reached to brush an errant hair out of his face.

This time the voice was clear, coming from directly behind him, and he turned sharply towards the sound. A ghostly specter was emerging from the swirling abyss. There was faint glowing in the darkness where the face must have been. Dark coals glowed as a replacement for eyes, for where there was only darkness growing from darkness, all light seemed to be sucked into this ominous figure.

As the darkness surrounded him, blocking out all of the fog, and the darkness growing so thick that he felt like he was choking. "Rhett Butler, it was you…."

Rhett's normal composure began to falter, as the figure drew even closer, Rhett's throat squeezed tightly as he began to slowly recognize this menacing figure. "You lusted after my wife. You watched and waited like a spider..." The hood fell back to reveal the grayed decaying flesh with a bloody hole in the forehead.

"Frank..." Rhett stammered for a moment, fighting the urge to rub his eyes to remove such a vision as the one before him. "What are you doing here?"

"This is the night when the living and dead collide. And I left my wife and you were the one proposing before I was even in the ground. And yet, not that many years later, you've completely abandoned her." Frank moved closer to Rhett, so that the scent of gunpowder and the metallic odor of blood all over powered by the strong odor of rotting flesh. "You know that you wanted me dead. I wasn't a fool. You wanted my wife. You wanted her and my daughter to be yours, and yet now you've tossed them to the side like rubbish. I know that you watched as my child grew inside of her that you wanted that child to be your flesh and blood."

The closer that the dead man came to him, the more Rhett's stomach revolted against the smell and the memories of a dark March night.

"Or is there more to the story than what the rest of the town believes." Frank's papery lips moved and the sound was as brittle as tree branches rubbing in the wind.

Rhett started to rise to fight off the attack, "No, of course not."

"It's awfully convenient that I died that night wasn't it. Convenient how you were able to save nearly everyone else but me, when it was my wife that you wanted as your own, that would have been your own if not for your stubborn pride." Darkness seemed to twist around him like wisps of smoke, "Yes, Butler, I know more than you think that I do. I know an awful lot. I know that she came to you to save her and her family, and you turned her down. Did that burn inside of you, knowing that those nights when I was holding my wife, she could have been yours. Oh, I know that she didn't love me like a wife loves her husband, but the thing is that she was my wife. She did try to be a good wife. She could be sweet and charming, and yet what did you do to her? You've destroyed her as surely as you destroy everything that you touch."

The usual swarthy skin that had been tanned over the years as a ship captain, was suddenly milky pale, as Rhett began to sweat profusely at Frank's accusations. "I didn't destroy her. She destroyed me." But the strength in his voice faded, and his voice came out in a cracked whisper.

"Apparently, you've been away from our wife for longer than a few months. You know nothing about her. You somehow missed the fact that she's been broken for years. She was broken before you married her, but her life with you only broke her more. You can't see it, but she is fragile in her own way. And yet even in her darkest moments, she protected you. She wouldn't let anyone know that you had been fighting on the stairs. She might have lied to everyone and refused to admit that you wanted her to miscarry, but I know it. And you know what you told her. You told your wife who was carrying your child, that you might as well have violated, that you hoped she would have a miscarriage." Frank's cold hand was now on Rhett's shoulder, squeezing with surprising strength. "She wanted that baby. She was thrilled to be pregnant, for the first time she wanted the child she was carrying, and yet you wished for that child to die. And you nearly killed her, the woman that you loved, if you even know what love is."

Rhett struggled against the grip of death, trying to rise and fight, "she didn't want the child..."

"But she did. And she's been grieving that child for years now, and then to lose Bonnie and Melanie… I know that she is strong, stronger than most, but still there is point when we all break. She is past that point, remaining upright only by the strength of her will… Not that you would care, after all everything was her fault, isn't that what you told her before you left her?" Frank prodded.

"No one was there, how do you know what i said?"

"I didn't have to be there." Frank countered. "I'm dead. I am wherever I want to be, or maybe I'm just your guilty conscience."

"This is absurd. I have nothing to be guilty about..." Rhett rose, but found that his feet could not move, as though his boots were mired in quicksand.

"You didn't succeed in killing her on the stairs when you murdered your child, so I guess you thought it would be better to slowly kill her. Well, you are succeeding to now to do what war, famine, and the loss of everything she loved couldn't.."

"You're wrong." Rhett weakly protested. "You never knew her."

"I knew her in ways that you never did. I saw the wounds that she carried that you discounted as something to be so easily repaired by a few meals and safety. I saw the way that she was terrified of losing money, for money meant her security. I saw how she wanted to be like her mother, a lady. You've never seen her as a lady. She's nothing but a whore to you, that refused to be bought except but by the most expensive payment of matrimony, something you surely had vowed to never fall to." There was nothing fussy or maidenish about this spectre, "but I digress, not understanding your wife is one of the least of your crimes. You killed your children, a tiny baby that never even had a chance to be held."

And suddenly a child was before him with dark curls and green eyes, a toddler of only a few years who looked at him accusingly. The boy smiled briefly, with a smile that was so like his own that he could not refute the origin of this child. And yet the child before him flicked and vanished like the flame of a candle snuffed by a wind in the night. And then in his place, a ghost of his daughter, her skin pale, but her eyes bright. The look on her face was not an expression that he had ever seen there before. Her eyes accused him, laying the burden of problems at his feet, but all too soon she was gone, leaving him only with this shadowy version of Frank.

"I've..." Rhett tried to defend himself, but nothing would come. He was at a loss for an explanation, and the brief vision of his dead children had silenced him.

"Please, stop. I'll make amends. Just stop."

Suddenly the darkness receded, and he was alone standing on a cliff overlooking a misty sea. He frantically glanced around, but there was nothing and no one to suggest if his encounter had been real or imagined. Yet he could not stopper the words that had been spoken to him from repeating over and over. Had this occurrence been merely his guilty conscience, or had he really been visited by the ghost of Frank Kennedy?

 _So the simple, single line sitting in my ideas folder was Rhett Butler is haunted by the ghost of Frank Kennedy. There was no direction other than that, and then suddenly it was there. I hope you enjoyed it! Alica_


	2. Chapter 2

_So here I am playing around with the idea of a continuation. I don't know how well it will work, but somehow it decided to jump from Halloween to Christmas. Tis the season._

The tree was festooned with bows and carefully crafted bulbs along with a hundred tiny candles. The tree was so heavily laden with ribbon and lace that it seemed to be an extension of the frothing seas. Small packages were carefully hidden among the branches, and Scarlett had just finished hanging the stockings by the fireplace, which had been roaring earlier, but had now died down to a faint glow. She sat staring at the fire, slowly sipping on a small glass of egg nog. The children had already been sent to bed for the evening, which she had expected to be a more difficult task as Ella had been nearly bouncing with excitement earlier in the evening at the prospects of getting everything on her small list of requests to St. Nicholas. Wade had been trying to mask his hopes, but his eagerness had been apparent. Scarlett suspected that Ella had included her stepfather's return on that list. As much as the children grated on her nerves, she hated to think that they would miss out on something so significant or be disappointed by St. Nicholas failings. But Rhett had not sent so much as a telegram to let her know of his whereabouts, and the chances of him surprising her by appearing under the tree were as likely as Scarlett being the mother of Jesus, she thought, and then immediately crossed herself for the thought of her mother and the sacrilegious thought.

It was going to be a difficult holiday without question, as it was the first one since losing Melanie and Bonnie. Ella's birthday as minor as an event as it was had been heart wrenching, impossible to not notice the empty seats around the table, as Ella blew out her candles on her cake and opened her gifts. As much as she had tried to keep the family traditions in tact, it was pointless for them to pretend that there had not been a great change in their family and lives. They were half the family that they were a year ago.

They had ventured outside of town and picked a tree, and Scarlett had absently watched, allowing the children to decorate the tree with everything in the house that they could think of to use. There had been hot cider and eggnog, and Scarlett had invited Uncle Henry and Aunt PittyPat to the house for a Christmas Eve dinner as awkward as meals with the two siblings could be. She had intended to invite Ashley and Beau, but she changed her mind in fear that Rhett would eventually hear of it, for he always did learn of any indiscretions or slips that she might make, and then assume that Ashley's presence meant that she had lied about her change in feelings.

There were no decorations on the door, as it had not been long enough since Bonnie's death to feel like it would be acceptable to do anything that was visible from the outside of the house. Scarlett religiously clung to the mourning rituals that she had previously fought against, for the loss of a child was more real to her than the losses of her husbands, and she had not been able to truly mourn the death of her parents. This loss she felt in the depth of her soul, and it seemed to combine with all of the losses that she had suffered and been unable to grieve for, her parents, the boys from the county, her lost child. But regardless of her own suffering, Scarlett refused to deprive her children of anything that remained of the holiday traditions.

Scarlett had turned back to religion marginally as penance for her crimes, hoping that God or the Blessed Mother might forgive her and her punishment might end. Although attending Midnight Mass and the Easter vigil after years of avoiding any mention of religion probably didn't make up for lusting after a married man for a decade. The children had been carefully dressed in their finest clothes to attend midnight mass. Ella had sang the Christmas carols with gusto, her voice scratching and screeching joyfully, rejoicing at the chance to outside of their house. Wade had a nice voice that was slowly adjusting to a deeper timbre now that he was approaching manhood. His voice blended well with his mother's, who was a passable soprano. Scarlett fought the tears through the service, the weight of the year pressing her down, as she remembered how Bonnie had wiggled and squirmed the last time that she had been to an evening service on the rare occasions that Scarlett took the children. Thoughts of Mary and a baby also weighed upon her, as she thought of her baby that never saw a Christmas. The baby would have been nearly two by now. In fact, her son or daughter could have shared a birthday with the Christ Child. She thought of fleeing Atlanta with Melanie and Beau right after his birth, and imagined that she understood how terrified Mary would have been, but at least Joesph had stayed with Mary through the entire journey, while Rhett had abandoned her. But the familiar Christmas story that she had listened to her mother tell her every Christmas of her childhood, had suddenly become new to her.

As the service progressed Scarlet found Ella leaning against her until the child's slight weight was fully upon her side. Rhett had rarely gone with her to service or had insisted that the children attend with him, but Scarlett feared that their appearance without him would be the final straw in her reputation, confirming that indeed the Butler's marriage was irrevocably over. She had arrived as late as possible to avoid having to answer the questions about the whereabouts of her husband. When the service was over, the last carol sung and the final prayers prayed, Scarlett had shaken Ella awake and led her out to the carriage where Pork had lap robes ready. Wade drowsily climbed after them. By the time that they reached home, both children were asleep. Wade had been easier to wake, but Ella, having already been sleeping at the church, was impossible to wake. Scarlett had struggled to lift her and hand her down to Pork. She followed them into the house.

Finally out of desperation, as there was nothing left to do to prepare for the morning, Scarlett reached for the Bible that Wade had opened to read Ella the Christmas story. She began to skim the text looking for the familiar passage. Thankfully, Wade had already turned the page to the chapter in Luke, as Scarlett had never been one to read from the Bible and wouldn't have known where the passage was located. She began thinking of the young girl who had been thrust into the role of being the mother of Jesus. And for a moment she thought of how scared she had been to be a mother as teenager. She hadn't been ready, and it was hard to imagine that a girl as young as Mary would have been either. Although probably, Mary would have to have been a better mother, a natural mother like Melanie, but It wasn't long until Scarlett began to nod off, and the Bible slipped from her hands and thudded softly on the floor. A single tear trailed down her cheek, as she had wished for the children that could not be there to celebrate.

She awoke to the falling of a log as it crashed, sending a shower of sparks, the room was dark and growing colder. She shivered and tried to snuggle into the cushions on the settee, but the cool air could not be avoided. She finally abandoned the her efforts and rose from the settee and stood rubbing her hands over her arms and staring out into the darkness. The moon was full, its silver beams spilling onto the empty street below. There was nothing moving. This would be another year where Atlanta did not have a white Christmas. There were to be no Christmas miracles. All of those had been used up. She finally surrendered to her exhaustion, realizing that there would not be an extra person in the house that night to celebrate and worry over.

She was awakened by Ella, chirping excitedly about the presents, and she struggled to open her eyes. It felt like she had not slept any, and her eyes stung and watered from lack of sleep. But regardless of her own exhaustion, she could not delay this moment of happiness and normalcy for the children. The sky was only tinged a glowing pink, and the streets were still. Scarlett stumbled down the stairs and sagged against the settee while Wade and Ella began sorting presents. Wade grabbed both stocking from the fireplace and Ella began stacking the gifts into three piles, one significantly smaller than the other two.

In short time, the presents were unwrapped, and Ella was busy changing the clothes of the elegant lady doll that St. Nocholas had brought her, with lots of clothing to change her into. Wade was busy thumbing through the various tomes that her had been expectantly awaiting. Scarlett ushered them into the dining room where breakfast was waiting. The servants would be given the rest of the day off, but they had set a full buffet for the family for the day.

Wade piled his plate high with food, while Scarlett only had a meager selection. She held the hot cup of coffee in her hands.

"Mama?" Ella quizzed. "What was your favorite Christmas memory?"

Scarlett blinked, unwilling to think about the most recent Christmases, for it would bring to mind those who were gone. "My pa – your grandfather- always made Christmas wonderful. There was always candy and oranges and presents. There was one year that he made a dollhouse for me and Aunt Sue and Aunt Careen. I didn't like dolls much, but it was a very nice gift."

"What about Christmas with my daddy?" Ella pressed.

Scarlett stared into the coffee, trying to remember something that she could her child. "Well, during the war, that last Christmas, after we had already left Atlanta and were back at Tara, your father came and was with the commissary looking for food for the troops, and he happened to show up on Christmas Eve. It was so nice to see a familiar face, and we had known Frank for years. We didn't have much, but we gathered around the old piano and sang carols." Scarlett paused, carefully omitting the fact that that night Frank had asked her permission to marry her sister. "Wade, do you remember? You were pretty little, but you were so excited to see friendly faces."

Wade nodded, "I think I do. It seemed so exciting at the time, but when I look back, we really had nothing then." He thoughtfully loaded his fork with a mouthful and smiled before taking a bite.

Scarlett grimaced, "You are right. And the next year was not much better, but the year after was your first Christmas, Ella. You were a tiny baby. They used you in the nativity at the church."

Wade swallowed . "Uncle Frank got me a toy train. I remember I was so excited. I didn't have very many toys, but I didn't need them. And we had lots of food,; I don't think I'll ever forget the feeling of not having enough to eat."

"I see that you are making up for lost time/" Scarlett nodded towards his heaping plate. "Not that I am any better. At least you are a growing boy, which is the perfect excuse. If I ate like that I'd get so fat."

"Mother, you will never get fat. You're beautiful," Ella whispered.

"I second that," said a voice from the open door leading into the hallway.

All heads whipped towards the noise. And Ella quickly abandoned her chair and went running to fling her arms around Rhett, who stood there looking windblown. "Merry Christmas"


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's Note: I should have finished this before Christmas, but I didn't. This was only supposed to be a one shot, but I guess its a three shot now. I hope that you enjoyed it!_

Days had passed without Rhett acknowledging his encounter with his wife's former husband, but the words had certainly found their aim. He mulled over the words spoken on that desolate hill over looking the sea, even though he would have liked to completely blot out the experience. He would have drowned those images with as much liquor as could sink a ship. But it failed to dull those memories, instead when he was at his most sodden, it was as though he was once again surrounded by a ghostly mist. He could almost still smell that fetid odor of Frank's rotting corpse and feel strength of his hand.

Eventually, even as stubborn as he was, he could no longer fight against fate. After he decided on a direction, it took days to travel from the shore to Dublin, and then several more days until he was able to secure a passage on a ship heading back to America. Something about being on the water made his senses honed and more alert. Perhaps the legends of the god of the seas were true, perhaps he had descended from Poseidon, perhaps he was a demi-god, God knows that he would like to be able to claim anyone else as his father than the man who had blotted him from the family Bible and expunged his name from the Butler ranks. He drew his strength from the water, just as Scarlett drew hers from the red earth of Tara.

He didn't know how to explain his return to either Scarlett or the children, least of all the rest of Atlanta, and he certainly didn't want to be taken as having lost his mind. But with a singular purpose he knew that he needed to return home to his wife and her children. No, he corrected himself, they were his children, and it was unfair the way that he had turned his back on them.

After traveling by boat for weeks and then by train overnight, he finally arrived in Atlanta. The train schedules were far more reliable now than they had been during the war and immediately following it, but delays were common, resulting in a much later arrival than he had intended. His plan had been to be sitting in the parlor when the children awakened, but instead he stealthily entered the house and found them in the dining room, obviously already too late to be there for the moment that they awakened..

Ella was overjoyed to see him, Wade was hesitant, and Scarlett looked shocked and afraid. "I apologize for my delayed arrival," he offered as he slipped into his usual seat opposite his wife , which was vacant after pouring himself a cup of coffee. "I was overseas, and it took me longer to return than I had anticipated."

Ella leapt from her chair and threw her arms around his neck. "Uncle Rhett, I missed you so much. You were gone an awfully long time, and I don't like it when you go away." She finished her welcome with a pout that would put her mother to shame, for despite the differences, Rhett saw so much of his wife and daughter in Ella.

"I missed you, too!" He returned her hug with a tweak of her nose. "And you too, Wade."

Wade nodded solemnly.

Scarlett said nothing, wrapping herself in silence, although he couldn't tell surprisingly if it was anger or shock. They stared at each awkwardly, the faint clinking of silverware stirring tea and scrapping plates, as the children rushed to consume their breakfasts in order to begin playing with their new toys. Ella took the silence as an opportunity to detail the family's activities since the beginning of his absence in rich detail. "Momma sent for us, but you were already gone before we got home from Marietta. And, Aunt Melanie went to heaven. And we went to Tara, and Wade kissed a girl. My cousin Susie isn't very nice, and she got mud all over my dress, on purpose, so Wade helped me put a dead snake in her bed. and we went to the park when we got back to Atlanta and there was a nice lady there with lots of dogs, and I got to play with the cutest puppy..." Ella was also the only one oblivious to the tension that crackled through the air, like the summer sky before the first crack of lightning.

Finally Wade set down his fork, "Mother, may I please go see Beau? I promised him that I would show him what I got as soon as we were done with breakfast." His brown eyes stared at his mother hopefully, waiting for acknowledgment of his request.

"Oh, mother, can't I please go, too?" She glanced at Wade who grimaced at the thought of his tag-along little sister, but it was Christmas after all, so he shrugged his shoulders in surrender. Ella grinned and chirped, "I'll hurry back!" She bounced about in her seat, her ceaseless energy radiating from her.

Rhett chuckled at her quick defection, was his return already losing its excitement? But he knew that the day would be filled with plenty of time to spend with each of them, and so he turned to Scarlett for her answer, ready to agree to the children's plans, if Scarlett would refuse.

But she nodded slowly at the children, her eyes averted to her plate, refusing to meet his eyes again. He observed as she pushed the food around on her plate trying to carefully conceal her obvious discomfort. The children both carefully laid their silverware and napkins on their plates, and quickly rushed upstairs to get ready for the day. After all, they couldn't go the to the Wilkes' in their night clothes. Their laughter echoed through the house as they rushed to share their bounty.

Once they were out of sight, Rhett rose from his chair and knelt on the floor beside Scarlett's position at the end of the table. "Scarlett, look at me," he commanded with a gentle firmness.

She refused, her jaw tense, as she continued to fidget with her plate.

"I was an ass," at this admission, she snorted derisively, but he continued. "I apologize. But you aren't going to get some flowery speech from me." Rhett leaned forward and dropped a soft, questioning kiss on her mouth.

She gasped, her eyes opening and finally meeting his again. He dropped another quick kiss, his kisses had always been far more persuasive than any words he could muster. She instinctively leaned towards him, advancing his gesture.

"ahh-hmm" Wade voiced from the hallway. "I'll be going now." His cheeks were red with embarrassment, for he had just caught his parents in as a compromising position as he dared himself to think. But his eyes twinkled in amusement, for they both looked at him in horror. Ella darted into the room, swinging her arms around her step father. "I'll be back soon." She turned to her mother and kissed her on the cheek. "Merry Christmas, mother! Thank you!" And as quickly as she had slipped into the room, she was gone with Wade at her heels.

Rhett rose and offered a hand to his wife. "I'm sorry, I've been remiss in my role as your husband." She hesitated for a moment, but then rose and reached for him, wrapping her arms around his neck. She stared at him warily, but he did not pull away. Green opened to darkness, and he gently swooped his lips down on hers once more, gentle fleeting kisses that slowly drew her to him, calling back to kisses that they had both nearly forgotten.

"Rhett," Scarlett breathed, her voice faint. "I don't understand. Didn't you say that your love had worn out?" She asked hesitantly, afraid that her very question would cause the moment to evaporate as quickly as it had appeared.

"I was wrong," he muttered.

She blinked in confusion, for surely those words could not come from the mouth of Rhett Butler. "Excuse me?"

He glowered at her, "I. WAS. WRONG."

She beamed at him, her eyes lighting with mirth. "Those are words that I never thought would escape from your mouth."

"And you never will again. Take that as your Christmas present." he added.

"So you love me?" She asked hopefully, her hand resting on his chest. He nodded his assent. "Are you home for good?" Again he nodded. She reached up and kissed him shyly. "I'm glad."

He deepened the kiss; his fingers threading through her hair. "It was so nice of you to come down to open presents in your nightgown for me. Should I take that as your gift to me?" He began fiddling with the ties of her wrapper.

She slapped his hands away, "No, you skunk. I actually did get you something for Christmas. And besides anyone could walk in here." She pushed away from him, and moved towards the parlor as he trailed behind her. She led him to the tree, where a small package was nestled in the branches.

He watched her face and reached for the gift. It was less than six inches in each direction, and Scarlett had obviously wrapped it with care. He pulled at the blue ribbon, which easily fell away. He carefully tore at the paper, and opened the box. Inside was a small pillow with crudely stitched words, some of the letters were backwards, obviously the work of a child. "I love you" was clearly the intended message. He looked up at Scarlett, unsure of exactly what this gift meant,

"Bonnie made this. Melanie helped her. She wanted to surprise you. I… I didn't know what to get you, but before I left for Marietta, Melanie brought it to me. She thought that I would want it, but I wanted you to have it more. I thought you needed something to hold on to…." she finished awkwardly.

Tears pricked at his eyes, "Thank you, Scarlett. I can't imagine anything better. I have no words." He reached into his pocket and withdrew his handkerchief, "but we both might be needing this."

"My gift to you is nothing in comparison." He went to hallway and retrieved two boxes from beside the door. He first handed her a large box. She opened it slowly and found a pile of beautiful wool tartan plaid. "It's supposed to be the O'Hara plaid. I was in Ireland, and everywhere I looked, all of the colors I saw were the color of your eyes." She smiled at him and thanked him. He handed her another box, this one much smaller. Inside the box she found a brilliant sapphire on a golden angel, delicately designed as a pin. "I wanted to give you something of Bonnie." He kept his words few as she nodded at him with teary eyes.

"Thank you, Rhett." She brushed at a tear streaking across her face. "I miss her."

Rhett wrapped his arms around her. "I miss her, too." They stood in companionable silence, for a moment sharing their grief, as they should have shared it from the beginning.

"Rhett, what made you come home? I'm not complaining, but you're so different than you were back in September."

He chuckled, "you'd never believe me, my pet. You'd think I'd gone mad and belonged in an asylum. Let's just say that I needed reminded of my promises to you, and someone had to make me see that I was making a mistake." His neck hairs stood on end as a breeze blew across his neck, although Scarlett seemed completely unaffected, but he understood, he knew that he was being watched with eyes of mist and glowing coals. And those eyes would not hesitate to remind him.

The End


End file.
